what is there left to say?

woke up this morning with the old familar feeling, not one i've felt in a long time; an old familar feeling that brings out the ache and the tears and the crazy insane feelings of not being enough, of out-of-this world craziness and insanity.

and i had to leave to come home, to just be home, be quiet and meaningfully spend the day with cooper.

who must think i'm mad, to come home and fling my arms around his shaggy shoulders and weep over his head.

what's there to be so upset about? nothing, and yet everything.
i want to say its just exhaustion-- or that little bit of comfort of home, where everything blends into everything and everyone just has hugs and concern on their faces.

throw it into the wind, they say. scream it out loud and let it go.
but today let me just wallow until i can wallow no more
and tomorrow i'll be okay.

28 is too far away; but tomorrow's significance diminishes with the morning.


I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be Me

--unwell; matchbox twenty